IT was the south: mid-everything, Mid-land, midsummer, noon; And deep within a limpid spring The mirrored sun of June. Splendour in freshness! Ah, who stole This sun, this fire, from heaven? He holds it shining in his soul, Prometheus the forgiven. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLAINT OF THE CAMEL by CHARLES EDWARD CARRYL THE REVENGE; A BALLAD OF THE FLEET by ALFRED TENNYSON TO THE CUCKOO (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE DEAD LARK by ALEXANDER ANDERSON ON RECORD by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE VISION ON THE MOUNT by PHOEBE CARY |